“And what is the problem with pink topaz?”
Fleur shook her head. “Oh, there’s no problem with it. It’s truly a lovely stone.” She called over to the younger Mr. Rundell. “Isn’t it, Mr…?”
“Most lovel—”
“Fleur, I’m going to haul you from the shop and turn you over to the constable myself if you don’t finish the bloody thought!” Henry managed to bellow all that in a single breath.
Wide-eyed, Fleur took in his heightened color. Why, a shade of red to rival the elder Mr. Rundell’s earlier. She feared she was sending Linnie’s brother-in-law into an apoplexy.
She hurried to deliver his edification. “The pink topaz represents love and affection.”
Henry closed his eyes. When he opened them, he did so and spoke with his usual calm. “Wouldn’t that make it theidealstone?”
“Yes, it would…for a man who believes in love and affection, which you do not. It wouldn’t be fair to the young lady, giving her something you don’t feel or mean.”
Silence met her pronouncement.
Henry clasped his large hands at his back. To keep from strangling her? she wondered.
Fleur sighed. This friendship with the Duke of Hartwell was already proving work. But then all relationships were.
“Fleur?” he asked silkily.
“Yes, Henry.”
“I suggest you return to your business and let me see to mine.”
She brightened. “Splendid idea! After I finish with Mr. Rundell, I promise I’ll help you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he called after her retreating form.
“Don’t be silly. It will be no trouble.”
Henry mumbled something suspiciously close to“Everything with you is trouble…”
“My apologies,” she said when she returned her attention to Mr. Rundell’s desk. “Where was I?”
“Leaving?”
“Oh, that is right. As I was saying, even if I am able to make out the crest, there is no saying I know its wearer. It can belong to anybody. But by the weight of gold—”
“My lady, are you looking to do my job for me once more?” He held his hand out and snapped the four fingers loudly against his palm.
Her heart pounded hard against her breast.
This was the moment she had been waiting for. Maybe that was why she couldn’t move.
“Lady Fleur, you had best move quickly.” He tapped his timepiece.
Fleur opened her fingers and laid the heavy gold ring before him.
Mr. Rundell studied the piece. In hushed tones, Fleur explained that she had come upon it and needed to learn the wearer’s identity.
Then, with the same efficiency Mr. Ferrier, their family farrier in Scotland, trimmed, balanced, and filed shoes to the horse’s hooves, the King’s silversmith removed a collection of covered jars, cloths, set them out, and cleaned in silence.
Henry’s conversation with the younger silversmith filtered into the workspace.
“…Perhaps an emerald…”